


funk (but no groove)

by asexuelf



Series: Month of Salentine's [20]
Category: Sally Face (Video Games)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Disabled Character, Fluff, M/M, Menstruation, Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, Suicidal Thoughts, Supportive Travis Phelps, Trans Sal Fisher, i swear this isnt doom and gloom its soff, lots of laughing too, pmdd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22873387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexuelf/pseuds/asexuelf
Summary: No matter how deep Sal falls into the pit, Travis will be there to pull him out.
Relationships: Sal Fisher/Travis Phelps
Series: Month of Salentine's [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620466
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	funk (but no groove)

**Author's Note:**

> YIKES, I AM SO FAR BEHIND AKDNSKD sorry for the disappearing act!! between writer's block and my own sad boi blues i have been STRUGGLING to write. so here's a salentine that's meant for a few days ago ... and i'll do my best to post more quickly 💖
> 
> warnings: suicidal feelings, pms/pmdd, depression, talk of medication... :0 i think that's it!
> 
> i hope you enjoy! 💖

Travis presses another kiss beneath Sal's ear. Then another. Then a third, just to be sure. They're lying in bed, Travis in his day clothes in case Sal ever wanted to go anywhere, and Sal in yesterday's jeans and tee-shirt. His hair is a mess and he's not removed his prosthetic all day; the prosthetic especially isn't a good sign.

"You sure you're feeling okay?" he whispers, Sal's neck cold against his mouth. "It's okay if you aren't…"

And, oh, Travis _knows_ he isn't.

Sal's been out of it all day. Since last night, im fact. He's miserable and Travis knows it. He's struggled to make food, he's struggled to eat, he's struggled to get out of any chair he sits down in… Even going to the bathroom has seemed an impossible task for poor Sally.

Though his face can't be seen, his eyes emote just fine, droopy and tired and _miserable_.

_Ugh! Just tell me you're miserable so I can help you!_

It's enough to make Travis want to shout. As is, he's spent the last twenty-four hours taking deep breaths and focusing on being patient with his boyfriend. Patience is easy. Patience is good. Maybe if he tells himself that enough times, he thinks unamusedly, the first bit will be as true as the last.

_Sigh._ God willing.

Finally, with what looks like great difficulty, Sal nods, then stops. When he sighs, it blows through the bottom of his mask and moves the hair resting on his shoulders. Little blue strands play over his chest, as if caught in wind.

"Actually, Travis…" He sighs again. "No. I'm not feeling great."

Oh, thank God. Glad to finally be getting somewhere, Travis pulls Sal on top of him. He's a little heavy, but Travis finds it more comforting than uncomfortable. 

"Talk to me, baby," he says. If he sounds a little too excited, his boyfriend doesn't say anything.

Sal lays his head back against Travis chest, the straps of his prosthetic digging strangely into the flesh there, and sighs. "So, you know that I… every month, I mean."

Travis blinks. "The monthly apartment meetings? Is it bad news?"

"What? No. Ugh, um. Geez, I hate talking about this." He sighs again, a huff of clear irritation. "It's a… menstruation issue."

"Oh! Well, that's okay, I'm an expert on menstruation." He is not an expert on menstruation. "Tell me your woes, my love."

Sal chuckles darkly, a subdued and short-lived kind of humor. Still, it's his first real laugh of the day. Travis will take his victories where he can.

"Okay, so… Do you know what PMS is?"

He thinks so. That's what he buys the chocolate for, right? It's the part that makes Sal irritable and sad?

"Yes," he says confidently. He's probably not too off the mark. Hopefully.

Sal nods. "Alright, well, imagine that but set to turbo."

"...Turbo?"

"Yeah. Level 10 PMS, with a fun added sprinkle of suicidality." Travis tenses, but Sal leans an arm back and pats his chest. "Relax, I'm not planning on doing anything hasty. Or not hasty. But, uh, the condition. It's called PMDD and it's this godawful thing that comes along before I get my period. Sometimes during too."

"Yikes."

"Tell me about it. So, y'know. It loves to kick my ass."

Though he does well hiding his discontent, Travis' mouth curls down wryly. "Not your beautiful ass."

"I know! It's awful." The humor quickly leaves his voice and he slumps, suddenly dead weight against Travis' chest. "God, it's awful. I'm already on antidepressants and the like but... I don't know. It's like I've got so many issues, I couldn't hope to treat them all."

It's a rare thing to hear Sal talking so openly about his pain - especially in such a nihilistic way. Although he wants to be proud of Sal, thank him for opening up, it scares Travis too. Is Sal really in that much pain that he'd be willing to share it as if it doesn't matter? His voice sounds so empty. He sounds… beaten. Like he's already given up.

Travis shakes himself out of his head. _No, no - don't go down that road, Phelps… Sal says he's not going to do anything hasty so neither will you._

"Well, medicine only does so much, right?" he finds himself saying. Sal lifts slightly with interest, listening. "When you have a cold, you have to rest and drink water too. With flu, you have to eat gentle foods so you can keep them down. So when you have turbo blood moon depression…"

"Wow. That's a way cooler name than Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder."

"Sal." He blinks. "Wait- Is that the name?"

"Yep. I get _two_ kinds of dysphoria when I menstruate! Woo!"

Travis snorts. "Lucky you. Anyways- Let's get back on track. Ask me what you do when you have PMDD. Do it!"

"Okay, okay," Sal laughs. He jostles Travis with his laughter, making him smile. "What do you do when you have Turbo Blood Moon Depression, doctor?"

"Thank you for asking, nurse-"

Another laugh. "Wait, wait. Why are you giving me health advice if I'm the nurse?"

"Sal, please!"

"I'm trying to figure out the story here!" The laugh that leaves him next is mean and loud and honest and has Travis heart skipping a beat. "I think it sounds like you're discriminatory against nurses. What's your deal with nurses, Travis? Huh?"

"I don't have a deal with nurses!" Travis pushes Sal off his chest and stands, putting his hands on his hips. "Now grab your jacket so we can go get dessert pizza and make you less sad, jackass! Cuz that's what you do when you have PD- er- PDS- No- Shit, hold on..."

He can hear the odd sounds of breath against Sal's mask, mixed with loud peels of amusement and harsh wheezing. Although he tries to stand sternly and glare down at the tears escaping Sal's crinkled eyes, he finds his lips twitching upward.

"Sal!" He coughs to hide his own laugh. "Don't make fun of me when I'm being an amazing boyfriend. You're such an ass!

"Hahh," Sal sighs, a hand over his gut like he's holding himself together. "Yeah, I know. You really wanna get pizza?"

Not particularly. "Of course, honey."

Sal hums in interest. "Can we go to that tiny place I like? The place they let us sit in the special corner?"

"Yeah, angel, we can go there."

The restaurant is small, a new family-owned business, and the people who work there were enamored with Sal's mask that first time they walked in. Once Sal explained the prosthetic's purpose, they were extremely accommodating - and so kind about it too. It's rare to see someone being so complimentary about his boyfriend's prosthesis...

Warm at the memory, Travis smiles. _It's a good thing I had a large lunch_ , he thinks, because there is no way he's going to stomach more than one piece of pizza, no matter how much he likes the place.

Pizza must have been the best call, too, because Sal stands from the bed with more energy than he's had all day.

Before long, Sal is cleaning his face and wiping the inside of his prosthetic as Travis brushes his hair. It's a little oily (lying in bed all day always makes Sal so damn oily - _does he produce his own butter or something?!_ ), but it shouldn't bother him while he's eating. With his hair now done up in practiced pigtails, he's left to clean out his eye socket and glass eye while Travis goes in search of their money.

When he finds it, he shoves it into the pocket of his shorts and shares a private smile with himself again. Even after years of being together, he gets so happy when he can make Sal laugh or even just smile, let alone pull him up out of a rut. Taking care of Sal has become one of his greatest passions.

Then Sal is behind him, sliding his arms around his waist. "Ready, Trav?"

"Yeah. You wanna drive?"

"Nah. I'll let you chauffeur tonight."

"Happily." He turns in the warm, familiar arms holding him and presses a too-long tender kiss against Sal's hair. "And when we get home, there's cartoons and a weighted blanket with your name on it."

A happy hum leaves Sal again. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You existed. Kindly and caringly." Without meaning to, he holds Sal closer, so tight he can feel Sal tense. "Keep doing that. Please?"

"Travis? Are you okay?" He pulls away, hands on Travis' chest.

Travis swallows. "Yeah. Just… stay."

Blue eyes sparkling thoughtfully up at him, Sal is quiet for a moment. Then, "I will. I promise." He grabs Travis hand in his and begins to pull him slowly towards the front door. "I'm sorry I scared you. Just because I have those feelings doesn't mean I'll act on them."

"I know. But…" His footsteps sound suddenly too loud against the floor. He feels strange with his new sneakers on the thin carpet. Too big. "I love you. That's all."

"I love you too, Trav."

When they reach the door, Sal stands up on his toes to press the lips of his prosthetic against Travis'. Travis kissing back gratefully with a sigh through his nose. Sal is here. Sal is okay. Sal is doing _much_ better than he has been all day - and it will only get better from here.

"Now come on," he says, tugging again at Travis hand as he opens the door. "It's almost dinner time. I don't want to miss out on our table 'cuz someone got there first!"

Travis lets himself be pulled out the door and to the car. Sal has to let go of his hand so he can enter the car, but when they're both sitting down, Travis grabs it again with his right and holds on for the entire drive.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading - and sorry again for the wait! 💖


End file.
